


To Remember What It Was To Love

by theskull



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 10x23, Cute, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, MOC - Freeform, Supernatural - Freeform, Wincest - Freeform, very loosely inspired by the folgers ad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 12:28:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4435508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theskull/pseuds/theskull
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A slightly altered version of the ending of 10x23. The Mark of Cain is still removed, Death still dies and Sam and Dean share their first kiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Remember What It Was To Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brosinlove](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=brosinlove).



“Please, do me the honour,” said Death, handing his scythe to Dean.

Sammy stared up at his brother, silently begging for another way to remove the mark to come bursting through the door and save Dean from having to do this, though they both knew this was the only way. Even with the mark of Cain, he knew, or he ashamedly hoped, that Dean would find this task as impossibly difficult as he would were their positions reversed.

"Close your eyes,” Dean commanded. “Sammy, close your eyes," he said again, the slight falter in his voice betraying the emotional turmoil he was in behind the tough exterior that had been hardened by the mark.

Sam refused to close his eyes; instead he continued to look up at Dean, and said “Right. Take these, and one day when you find your way back, let these be your guide. They can help you remember what it was to be good, what it was to love.” Sam pulled two photos of him and Dean out of his pocket and laid them on the ground in front of him. He sighed heavily and dropped his head, thinking of the past and all that could have been.

Dean looked down at the photographs, remembering the days when they were taken, when he had no knowledge of the mark, or death, or demons. If he had just left Sammy in college and not dragged him into all this mess, trying to find their father had turned into spending every waking and sleeping minute facing danger and death, just like right fucking now.

He was the reason his brother was kneeling before him, willing to die for him. The thought broke his heart and he shook his head. No. He would not allow Sammy to give up his life just so that he could be free of the mark. He’d promised he would always take care of him. And now where was he? About to kill him?! No.  
Death saw Dean shake his head from behind and urged him on: “It’s for family you must proceed Dean, to be what you are, to become what you’ve become is a stain on their memory. Do it. Or I will. ”

Dean focused on the photos, paying little attention to Death’s words. To remember what it was to love. That was what Sam had said. He loved his brother, and now he remembered that feeling of content, of safety when they were driving along a highway in the Impala, just the two of them. They would stop when it got dark and lay on the bonnet, looking up at the stars and drinking beer. Those moments were precious to him, and he wanted more memories like that. If he killed Sam now there was no way he could ever have that again.

His gaze shifted to Sam, and Sam looked back up at him, half-smiling weakly for a moment before nodding at Dean to do it. Afraid his resolve would break the way Sam was staring up at him sadly, accepting his fate; Dean said “Forgive me” and lifted the blade above his head.  
Sam finally closed his eyes.

Wincing slightly as he closed his eyes, Sam braced himself for the cold, sharp pain he knew the scythe would bring.  
Dean blinked and stared down at his little brother, heart breaking at its non- existent seams. He made the decision in a split second. As the blade flew around towards Sam gaining speed every millisecond he abruptly changed its direction, swinging past Sam’s head and straight through Death’s lithe frame.  
For a moment Death simply stood there, shocked and disbelieving, the life draining out of him through the deep gash Dean had made, before collapsing onto the ground in a pile of dust.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled as he fell to the ground, a searing pain suddenly shooting through his right arm.

At the sound of Dean's voice Sam was jolted from his thoughts of happier times with his brother. He had wanted these to be his final thoughts as, despite the cause of his death, he still loved his brother unconditionally.

Sam ran over to Dean, whose arm was no longer hurting though he was still staring at it, mouth open. Sam gasped, placing his hand on Dean’s arm where the mark of Cain had been just moments ago.

“Sammy, I’m back,” Dean sobbed, his head falling onto Sam’s shoulder in a mixture of relief and exhaustion. They stayed like that for several minutes, Dean highly aware of Sam’s hand still resting on his arm where the mark had been, and his other hand circling around Dean’s back comfortingly. He didn’t deserve any of this from Sam, he was a monster, and he’d meant to kill him. Realising fully what he’d done when he’d had the mark; Dean began sobbing into Sam’s shoulder.

“Hey, hey Dean,” said Sam, lifting his brother’s head off his shoulder, cradling either side of his face and wiping away his brother’s tears, “I’ve got something for you, it is Christmas after all.” Sam moved one hand from Dean’s face and reached into his pocket, pulling out the keys to the Impala. “I’m giving you your baby back. Welcome home.” Sam said, smiling at his brother.

Dean took the keys and put them in his own pocket, not taking his eyes away from Sam’s even for a moment, he said “Thanks Sammy, but you’re my present this year. I love you Sammy.” Dean’s voice broke on Sam’s name and he closed his eyes, breathing in a shuddering breath. But before he could open them again Sam had leant in and pressed his lips to Dean’s.

He had only meant for it to last a few seconds, if that, but once Dean wrapped a hand around his neck and ran it up into Sam’s hair, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss, Sam forgot his intentions and opened his mouth and soul to his brother. Dean’s tongue darted into Sam’s mouth, tasting a mixture of blood, tears and Sammy. His Sammy. His little brother whom he loved and always would love with all his heart.

When they finally broke apart reluctantly for air, Sam rested their foreheads together and said, breathlessly, “I love you too Dean.”

_To remember what it was to love was the most glorious feeling in the world._

 

 


End file.
